Selected Works

Fiction
A sequel to "Sarah's Daughter," published by Gadd Books in 2010.
A 19th century teen deals with family sorrow, joy, friendship, bereavement.
Opinion
Weekly column that has appeared on the front of local news section of daily newspaper for 26 years, 52 weeks of the year, briefly moved inside in 2010 and is now back on the front.
Cookbooks
A series of small books focusing on the use of fresh herbs in various milieu.
Photography
Free-lance photos -- scenic and historic -- have appeared in The (New London, CT) Day, Forbes magazine, Cleveland Plain Dealer, The Berkshire Eagle, The Boston Globe, Yankee Magazine and Yankee Travel Guide.
Opinion excerpts
Taken from past columns in The Berkshire Eagle

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Falling leaves

October 4, 2015

Tags: Milton Bass, Elissa Bass, Amy Bass, Michael Bass

The little orchard
Three maples in front of the house are brilliantly orange, shedding leaves daily by the hundreds. I mow them whenever they are crunchy, saving the raking arm at least a little. And I am forced to remember that they were Milton's view of the world for a day or so before he left us on the 14th of this month. Thus fall, always a season for me of apple picking in the back yard, pumpkin harvest in the garden, crisp air and brilliant colors all around, now has reminders of loss all around. It's easy to celebrate life, his life, quite grand all around. And it's time to remember that in the zillion photos of our long time together, he's nearly always smiling. It was a good time. And he left when it was time. I know that. But I hadn't quite stopped talking with him. Perhaps that time was the time that could never actually come.

Precipitation

March 8, 2015

Tags: Sarah's Daughter, Rose, Michael Bass, teen fiction

It's getting hard to be a stalwart New Englander asserting that it is, after all, wintertime and in these parts it does snow in the winter. Under a dusting overnight, the driveway today was what my mother called "glare ice." The dusting kept Tracer and me from breaking our necks because it gave us something to grab -- he with little leathery pads and me with dependable Yak-Trax. It was sunny enough yesterday to let the salted town crumblage (whatever the substance is) soften a bit, so the edging tool broke some of that up in hopes the sun would attack any open space. But the sun was laid off not much past noon, and snow started to fall again. No need for color photography this afternoon -- the world is once again just black and white and 80 shades of gray. The snowdrops must be worrying by now.